


It Is The Green-Eyed Monster

by DrRatbag



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Combeferre and Courf and deffos dating I'm just too lazy to actually put it in the text, Combeferre is a damn saint, Courfeyrac Is A Little Shit, Enjolras is an Idiot, First Kiss, I just love Combeferre ok?, Jealous Enjolras, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings, Oblivious Enjolras, Oblivious Grantaire, R is a Tutor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 16:45:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7060924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrRatbag/pseuds/DrRatbag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>R is a Spanish tutor for extra money when he's not at uni, but Enjolras wasn't aware.<br/>When he sees Grantaire in the musain with one of his students, he misunderstands, and when he gets confused by his jealousy and new-found feelings, Courf and Ferre step in to offer an explanation.<br/>Just a wee fluffy get-together that I wrote on the bus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Is The Green-Eyed Monster

We're in the middle of a meeting, about half an hour in, and Ferre's had to take over because my mind is just all over the place. Something's seriously bugging me, but I can't put my finger on what it is. I just have this feeling like the meeting isn't really meant to be starting yet? Like we should just write this one off or something.

I'm mulling this over and taking sparse notes on what Combeferre's saying about homelessness statistics in the city centre when the door to the backroom of the Musain is thrown open and R stomps in quickly. I've never met anyone who walks so heavily, it's like he's stamping everywhere. His footsteps are very distinctive, which must be the reason I know who it is before I look up.

R apologises profusely, taking a seat near the back and throwing his bag down, his coat off, ruffling his hair and tapping a finger on the table absentmindedly. He's a flurry of movement and it's very distracting. He also looks very alive tonight, very vibrant. He's wearing a loosely-buttoned green shirt with the sleeves rolled past his elbows, and his hair is all over the shop. He looks ruffled and rushed, and it's actually very endearing. Watching him unpack his notebook and pens, grabbing a bottle of water from Jehan, he's all movement, never settling.

R's job in our university social justice society is artwork-based. He draws up posters for rallies, events, makes hand-outs, updates the website to make it look cool. He spends most of his time at meetings working on concept work, claiming that drawing during them helps him think. The curve of his hand and the drag of his pen across the page draws my eyes, and I follow obediently. He sketches quietly, more reserved, calculated movements now, for about 15 minutes. My notes suffer. But then, he looks up and catches me staring at him. He smiles, a small startled smile, and waves minutely with the pen in between his teeth and his other hand running through his hair. I duck my head down quickly and feel my cheeks heating up for some reason.  
I resolve to pay attention and make diligent notes for the rest of the meeting, but Ferre's closing the discussion in another 20 minutes. My notes are shit. I'm trying to make ammends, fill in the blanks on my page, when I feel someone sit heavily next to me.

I look up, and R's grinning down at me, pushing a coffee into my hand. I take it gratefully and try to return to my notes, decidedly not looking at R and thinking about how close he is, how I can smell him, feel how warm he is, feel where his arm brushes against mine.  
"R, I'm trying to work" I huff, taking a sip of my coffee and feeling warm and surprised when it's a mocha, my favourite. I hum quietly and drink some more  
"Well, I came over to get a recap on the bits I missed, but I see you're currently just writing the word 'shelter' over and over, so I guess I'm looking in the wrong place" He grins at me, pointing at my page, where I have indeed just been writing the same word repeatedly.  
"I guess I'm a little distracted" I admit, closing my book over. R hums in agreement and takes a long drink from his peppermint tea. I watch the movement of his throat and glance away quickly  
"So, how come you were late?"  
"Hmm? Ah, yeah, sorry about that, I didn't realise what time it was, I'll be more careful next time" he replies, sounding apologetic. I didn't want that, didn't want to make him feel guilty, so I change the subject  
"Can I see your drawings from the meeting?" He smiles, nods, and gets up to grab his book. I sigh a little and glance up, catching Courfeyrac's eyes. He's grinning widely at me, and I tilt my head a little in confusion, mouthing "what?", to which he mouths back "oh, nothing", waving his hands in the air and laughing. Courfeyrac is a bizarre creature. 

Grantaire returns in a few moments, throwing himself onto the seat and his book open, onto the table. He smiles at me and starts to show me a nice drawing he'd been doing for our next AGM. As he moves the page to show me more, I stop his hand and open a page I'd just caught a glimpse of.  
It's a drawing of me, holding a banner up at our last rally, mouth open in speech. It's a vibrant image, and I'm captivated by it. R blushes and tries to turn the page but I still his hand a look up at him  
"R-" I start, and he doesn't look at me "R, this is incredible! You've made me look so revolutionary"  
"That's how I see you, Apollo" R smiles sheepishly, and tries to turn the page again. I flatten my hand across it and keep looking at him  
"I couldn't-" I'm not sure how to word this, but I'm struck by the possibility I might never see this picture again, and am eager to prevent that from happening "Could I maybe... Could I keep this, R?" I ask, quietly, hand still over the page protectively. Grantaire looks torn and surprised for a moment, then sighs and says  
"I actually can't give you it right now"  
"Oh. How come?"  
"I need it for evidence, for my portfolio" He says, mumbling it away from me  
"Why?"  
"Well I drew it after a rally and then I decided to do part of my end of year folio on it for uni... If you really like it, I could give you a copy?"  
"Or you could show me what you're working on?" I ask, unsure if I'm pushing it. Grantaire looks up at me, and a steady smile grows on his face.  
"Yeah, yeah ok"  
"Are you free on Saturday?"  
"Yeah! Oh, actually" he pauses and looks thoughtful for a moment "I'm busy at 11, how about we meet up at 2? Downstairs?"  
"That sounds good, Grantaire" I smile, and slide his book back to him. He closes it over slowly and smiles at me as he takes a drink from his neglected tea. I feel exhilerated and try not to analyse it.

We talk for a little while longer, about the meeting and about uni, about Bahorel's new hair and Jehan's pastel knee-high boots, and then we realise everyone's left.  
"Ah" I say, a little embarrassed at having so little awareness of my surroundings  
"Can I walk you home? You're on my way and it's pretty dark, I don't want anything to happen to you" This makes me feel warm and happy, and I nod my head in assent. He shove on our coats and walk home, and when we reach my door, I turn to invite Grantaire up, but when I look at him he yawns wide and I decide he needs his sleep. I give him a far too quick hug and rush inside, trying to get myself under control. I always feel kind of confused around Grantaire, because he's unusual and hard to read, and because he's always been a match for me. For my arguments and my ideas. It's disarming. There's also just _something_ about Grantaire that commands notice. That needs to be seen, and I obey, always. I think my staring habit is getting a bit out of control, but he doesn't seem to notice or care, so I leave it unchecked.

When Saturday rolls around, I head to the Musain a little early (punctuality is my strong suit).  
I'm at the counter, ordering a mocha and a peppermint tea to go, when I spot R. I nearly call to him, but then I notice he's not alone. He's sitting, having coffee with a handsome, pint-sized man. The guy has short auburn hair and a cute, open smile. He laughs at something R says and I bristle. I can hear them talking, but can't make it out. Turns out this is ebcause they're speaking Spanish.  
I know R is bilingual. He speaks Spanish when he's drunk sometimes, and waxes lyrical about Spanish poetry and the importance of reading it in the original. I feel a twinge of _something_ that I can't join in, that I can't understand them. But it would be rude to interrupt what is obviously a date. I take a seat at the bar and glare into my mocha until I hear shuffling and movement, and turn around to see R and his date getting up, hugging, exchanging kisses on either cheek, and parting. I seeth quietly and try not to look, but then R catches me looking at him. He waves and calls out to me  
"Enj! Hey, how long have you been here?"  
"Not long" I mumble, trying to compose myself "I got you a tea" I say, a press the cup into his chest. He laughs and clutches it  
"Thanks" he takes a sip and hums in approval "But why didn't you come over? I was nearly done, or you could have joined us" he says, and I can't imagine why R would think that would be ok  
"I thought that might not be appropriate, and it's my fault I was early anyway" I glance away from him, back to my coffee  
"Ah, yeah, fair enough, I guess that makes sense." He takes another drink "Well, should we get going?" He grins at me and I feel my animosity waining. I smile back at him, embarrassed at myself, and jump off the barstool.

We walk quietly to the studio, I'm still trying to get my head straight and we're just drinking and walking quietly. It's not an uncomfortable silence, but I find myself missing Grantaire's loud voice and musical laughter.  
We get there soon enough, and when R throws the door open dramatically and looks at the ground, I walk in ahead of him. I step inside and catch my breath.  
It's beautiful.  
There are paintings all around the room. Some are on canvas, some painted straight onto the wall, these more haphazard, as if they're practises. Some are hanging up, some lying on the ground or against things, and one or two are broken. I cock my head at these, and turn to R, but he doesn't seem to want to explain, so I don't push it.  
Most of the paintings... are of me. Me at rallies, me at the musain, chatting or laughing or just looking at nothing. Sometimes I'm looking headlong into the picture, and my eyes look fierce. R portrays me like a warrior, like a bastion of justice. It's breath taking.  
When I turn to R, to thank him, or ask for an explanation, or just to look at him, he's staring at the ground, one hand reaching around his head to rub at his neck nervously. He's fidgeting with his tea and I'm filled with affection.

I walk over to him and place a hand on his shoulder. He flicks his head up and stares at me as if he's surprised I'm still there  
"R, these are magnificent." He looks somewhat puzzled  
"You're not- you're not mad?" He asks, hesitantly, withdrawing a little. I shake my head and smile  
"Grantaire, these are so wonderful. How could I be mad? Your incarnation of me is breathtaking"  
"I paint what I see" he shrugs, and then stares up at me, into my eyes. There's something there, something I can't figure out or identify, but I don't get much longer to think, because he steps back and starts riffling through a desk drawer. I mourn the proximity for a moment then shake myself. Get a grip, Enjolras.  
Grantaire pulls out a small, battered notebook, with the pages warped and distanced from each other. He turns to me, and tears one out.  
"Here, this one's my favourite. Favourite thing I can actually give you right now, anyway" He smiles shyly, rubbing his neck again, and I look down at the paper in my hands.  
It's an ink and watercolour piece of me holding a red flag in a powerful stance. There are shadows all around me, plunged into darkness, but the area of the paper I occupy is all light, all hope and promise. It's spectacular. I cherish it immediately and resolve to have it framed.  
I look up at Grantaire, filled with gratitude, and pull him into a hug. I wrap my arms tight around him, and whisper my thanks into his ear through his mess of hair. He chuckles lightly and hugs me back after a nerve-wracking delay, during which I thought I'd overstepped.  
I step back and look at him, and am gripped with the sudden and intense urge to kiss him. I nearly do, and then I remember his date. The small auburn man I'd seen him with.  
I remove myself from Grantaire's space and try to keep up a smile, clutching the piece of paper tight to me.  
I swing my bag off my shoulder and place the art in between two pages of a gargantuan textbook to keep it good, sling the bag back on, and turn to look at Grantaire. He's analysing my movements carefully, like a hunter, like he's watching me to see what I'll do. It's a little unnerving, and a bit exhilirating. I take a deep breath and, finding I can't seem to get myself in check, I glance at my watch and say, in an almost pantomime manner  
"Oh my, look at the time, wow, wow, it's so late, I have to meet Combeferre, we're planning a thing, this thing we need to do for a thing, wow, jeez, it's so late, wow" I blurt out, and cringe at myself even as it's still pouring out. I can't stop this stream of crap.  
R looks confused and a little surprised at my change in manner, and before he can say anything, I dart out of the door, calling  
"THANK YOU FOR THE ART, GOOD ART, THANKS R, BYEEE" as I go. Christ.

I walk fast from the studio, and once I'm a good distance away, I rest against a wall, breathe for a minute, and call 'Ferre.  
"Hello Enjolras, what can I do for you?"  
"Combeferre, are you currently free?"  
"Yes, how can I help?"  
"I need to talk to you, can I come over?"  
"We could meet in the middle, a coffee shop maybe?"  
"No thanks, I'd rather do this in your flat, if it's ok?"  
"Of course, can I ask what this is in reference to?" 'Ferre always manages to sound like he's conducting an interview, even over the phone to a friend. I've seen him spout some spectacularly elegant speeches, even drunk. I take a deep breath and gather  
"I'm just a bit confused, I was with Grantaire, and everything was just a bit much, and I'm a little confused, I can't keep up with my train of thought." Combeferre pauses for a moment, and I can hear him breathing deeply on the other end of the phone  
"Right. I see. Well, come on over. Courfeyrac is in, is that alright?"  
"Um, yes, yeah that's fine, the more the merrier"  
Combeferre says nothing  
"I didn't mean that, I don't know what I'm saying"  
"I thought as much. Well, I'll put on the kettle"  
"Thank you"  
"See you soon, Enjolras"  
"Thanks 'Ferre"  
He hangs up and I high tail it to his and Courf's flat.

Courfeyrac and Combeferre have been living together since first year uni, and despite having totally opposing personalities, they get on wonderfully. They're my best friend in two people, and although I'd rather just have confidante, voice of reason Ferre for this one, having optomistic, challenging Courf is probably good too.

When I arrive, basically running the entire way there, I'm kind of at a loss as to what to say. Courfeyrac opens the door and grins at me, hugging me (crushing me) as a means of pulling me inside.  
"Enjyyyyyyy" God, I hate that nickname "Sit down and tell uncle Courf what's wronggg." Courfeyrac sometimes lingers long on the last few letters of a word, drawing his sentences out even longer. It's taken a few years of close friendship for Enjolras not to want to hit him everytime he does it.  
"Hey Courf, where's Ferre?" I ask, slipping my bag off and toeing off my shoes. I pad over to the couch and flop down on it. Courfeyrac offers me a cup of coffee and I grin and nod enthusiastically. When the coffee's ready, Combeferre magically appears and they both descend upon me. The coffee softens the blow.  
Combeferre perches on the coffee table in front of me and Courfeyrac sits on the arm of the couch, and they're both looking at me intently, waiting for me to speak. I take a deep breath in and try to explain the situation to them, although I'm not entirely sure what's going on  
"So, like, there's something wrong with Grantaire. Or me. Or me and Grantaire. And it was fine before but now it's getting in the way of things. I was wondering if maybe one of you could talk to him and get him to stop whatever it is he's doing."  
"Ok, well, what do you mean by what R's doing?" Combeferre replies slowly, leaning forward slightly. Courfeyrac vaguely resembles the Cheshire cat, but remains silent  
"Well, I don't know exactly, he's just distracting me. And making me confused. And more annoyed than usual, but like a different kind of annoyed? And today he showed me some of his art and it was lovely and distracting and confusing, and why didn't anyone tell me R was dating someone?"  
Combeferre nods comprehensively, as a mist of understanding descends on his face. I envy him for it. Courfeyrac looks gleeful, but after a glance from Ferre, he tries to control his grin. He fails.  
"Enjolras," Combeferre begins, tentative "What is it about Grantaire that is distracting you? Think." I pause for a moment, trying to recall particular instances  
"Well, when he comes in late, when he wears _inappropriate clothing_ to meetings, when he sits next to me, when he comes in covered in paint, when he talks about dates and men, that sort of general stuff" I glance at them for a second "Why am I needing to tell you these things, he must be distracting everyone with his antics, can't you talk to him? He's disrupting the meetings." I cross my arms and huff slightly, put out that I even need to tell them these things. As if it's not obvious what R's been doing.  
"Enj, what does 'innapropriate clothing' mean?" Courfeyrac asks. I sigh heavily  
"Ugh, like when he wears those really skinny jeans, or that time he wore that singlet thing and you could see loads of his tattoos, or like that time he came in wearing shorts. Like, where's his sense of decorum"  
"Enjolras. **You** wear singlets, and shorts, and are _currently wearing tight skinny jeans_ " Courf points out, gesticulating to my jeans. Oh.  
"Well, there's no meeting today" Today was just hanging around. Seeing Grantaire. I wanted to look nice, sue me. Courfeyrac turns to Combeferre and shrugs his shoulders  
"I say we just tell him"  
"I think it would be better if he got there himself"  
"Ferre, it's been too long, think about R." Ferre does seem to think about this, because he looks into Courf's eyes for a long time, then nods. I'm totally at a loss as to what they're talking about  
"Hello? Tell who what? Think about R?" I wave my hands at them, making sure I've not become invisible. Combeferre returns his gaze to me and puts his coffee cup down on the table.  
"Enjolras. Could you try to think of a reason, any reason, why you might notice what R's wearing? That you might get distracted say, when he wears less clothing, or more revealing stuff?" Combeferre stares at me, posture open and waiting "Anything, Enjolras?"

I can genuinely say I've never understood Combeferre less.

"Combeferre. What?" Courfeyrac throws his arms up in the air and huffs loudly. He turns to me, grabs my face in his hands and says, very loudly into my face  
"YOU LIKE GRANTAIRE, YOU IDIOT. YOU LIKE HIM A LOT. YOU ARE VERY MUCH IN LIKE WITH GRANTAIRE." He says, very clearly. Then he moves back and says, quieter "Ok, process that for a moment." Combeferre is scalding him with his eyes, but quickly looks back at me. And I'm utterly lost.  
"Courfeyrac," I say, incredulous "I don't think I understand, why would you think I like Grantaire? As in romantically?"  
"Enjolras, I think perhaps you've liked R for a while now. You're always looking at him at meetings, he's constantly making you blush or laugh, he challenges you and makes you better, and I've never seen you look at anyone the way you look at R" Combeferre says, quiet and kind. He's got one of my hands clasped between his, and is staring dead into my eyes.  
I have to just sit there, blinking for a moment.  
Grantaire?  
I like Grantaire?  
I mean, I guess some of it makes sense, it would explain the fizzy feeling I get when R is near me, the way I have to follow his movements when he laughs, how I feel electric when we touch. I take a moment, putting the pieces together, and then I look back at Ferre. He's staring at me expectantly, and I slowly nod my head, agreeing. He breaks out into a small, satisfied smile, and Courfeyrac whoops and punches the air.  
However, the second I start to think that this is good, thatthis makes sense, I remember that I can't have R. He's dating that auburn man from earlier. I feel myself wilt, and Combeferre notices  
"Enjolras?" He reaches out to touch my hand again. I look up at him and try to acticulate myself. I'm usually much more in control of my speech  
"I can't do anything about it"  
" **What?** " Courfeyrac bursts out, lunging closer to me to sit right next me, nearly atop me "WHY NOT?" I sigh heavily and look at him  
"R's dating someone, I saw him today"  
"He's dating someone? No, I don't think that can be right, he's head ove-" Courfeyrac is stopped mid sentence by a stern look from Combeferre, and I'd love to hear the end of that sentence, but Combeferre is now staring at me, commanding my attention  
"Enjolras, if you like Grantaire, and want to be with him, you should give it a shot. Try to talk to him. I doubt he will shoot you down"  
"Combeferre, he's _dating_ someone already"  
"Enjolras, do you trust me?"  
"Of course. Always." He replies without hesitation  
"Then talk to him." He says, and I can tell by his face that that's that. This is the end of the conversation, and it will not reopen until further developments take place. I sigh, and hold out my empty mug for another cup, for some charity. I try my best sad puppy eyes, and Ferre laughs indulgently and takes it from me, moving to the kitchen.  
Courf slides closer to me (somehow) now we're alone, and whispers  
"Don't fuck this up, Enj", and when I try to ask for an explanation, he shakes his head, jumps up from the couch, and goes to help Ferre with the coffee.  
They spend the rest of the evening drinking coffee, shouting at the news, and eventually eating a take-away.

I decide to ask Grantaire to meet up for coffee on Thursday after my last class. Grantaire agrees, and it's Thursday pretty quickly.  
My class gets out a little early and I head to the Musain, trying to calm my nerves and run through what I'm going to say to R. If I even manage to say anything.  
I walks up to the bar and order our usual drinks and a muffin to pass the time before R arrives. But looking around, I think about cancelling the muffin. And the plan.  
Grantaire is sitting at one of the tables already, looking summery and carefree and handsome. Sitting next to him, laughing and saying something loudly in Spanish, is that auburn guy. Fuck.  
I start running my hands up and down my thighs nervously, trying to take a drink out of my mocha to calm myself down before fucking leaving, but I forgot it's boiling hot, and I burn my tongue on the huge gulp I took. I yelp a little and start coughing, so much that the barista passes me a glass of water, and I smile gratefully. I drink the water and scrub my hands over my face. This day is not going well.  
I turn back around, and bend down to get my bag. I stand up to leave, and nearly collide with Grantaire. He catches me, hands on my elbows, and he's grinning at me. God, he's so cute this close. I can see the freckles spanning across his nose and cheeks like the milky way, and the flecks of brown in his green eyes. He's not shaved, and I want to reach out and touch him, but I remember he's on a date and I'm an idiot, so I cringe a little and try to move back. R lets go of me and tilts his head  
"Enjolras, are you ok? I'm sorry you're early again, I'm just finishing up though, you could join us?" I nearly choke again  
"No, I don't think I should, I've made a mistake, I should go" I say, trying to get past him. R is stronger than me, and just steps to the side to block my path  
"What do you mean? Come on, just come si-" He stops, looking at the cups behind me. He reaches out to take his tea, looks at me for confirmation, and when I nod, he grins and takes a sip "How did you find out about my peppermint tea addiction?"  
"How could I not? You always smell like peppermint, your breath is like smelling an actual cup of peppermint tea?" He looks embarrassed and covers his mouth. I move his hand back and laugh a little  
"No, I like it" I say through a giggle, and Grantaire looks surprised. He smiles widely at me, and he has this look on his face like he's trying to figure me out. He's still close, and I can smell the aforementioned peppermint tea, and the cologne he's wearing. Which he must have put on for his date. I remember again, and shrink back a little more.  
"Well, Feuilly's leaving, we could go sit down? We could talk?" Grantaire says, taking hold of my elbow again and directing me to the table. I can see R's date packing his things up and it's too late now, I can't turn around and run now that the guy's seen me. I'm rude, but not that rude.  
The guy smiles at me and steps forward, reaching a hand out for me, which I take, and try to smile back  
"You must be Enjolras!" He says, and I nod "I'm Feuilly" he smiles, and looks at Grantaire with a strange expression, like a smirk or something, it must be an in-joke. I feel sick  
"One of Grantaire's failing students, I'm sure you've heard all about us!" He laughs and looks at R accusingly  
"Hey! I'm confidential!" Grantaire laughs back, throwing his hands up in defense. Feuilly tries to take his hand back, but I grip it tighter unintentionally, pulling him a little closer to me.  
"Students?" I ask, my breath caught in my throat. What?  
"Um, yeah, Grantaire's tutoring me in Spanish." He says, looking at me as if I've hit my head. I'm too pleased to hide my relief, and my shoulders go slack, I sigh happily, and my smile is suddenly genuine. I glance over at R, and he's looking at me with a curious expression. I laugh a little and shake Feuilly's hand back, too enthusiastically.  
"Well, it's wonderful to meet you Feuilly, I hope we cross paths again" I grin at him, eventually letting go of his hand. Feuilly laughs good-naturedly and walks out of the cafe with a wave.  
"What was that about?" Grantaire says, taking a seat and staring at me with raised eyebrows. I sit across from him and just smile. One less obstacle, I guess.  
But then I remember, R still might not want to date me. And suddenly, my face falls. My cheerful grin is replaced with a nervous smile, and my hands start to fidget, spinning the coffee cup round and round. I avoid R's gaze and try to get out what I'd planned to say earlier.  
"R, I wanted to ask you, to see if you'd like to, to maybe, go out for coffee?" I blurt out, and R smiles and lifts up his tea, a confused look in his eyes  
"Ah, yes, this is coffee. This is a coffee place. With coffee. Of course"  
"Enjolras, are you ok?" Grantaire asks, a twinge of concern on his face, which is very sweet  
"I'm fine, I'm good. Great, I'm great. I just, I wanted to talk to you about... Well, about you." R sits up a little straighter and looks worried  
"No! It's nothing bad! I don't think... Well, maybe it's bad, I don't know, I mean-"  
"Enjolras, spit it out"  
"What I'm trying to say is that I like you, that I like you a lot, and I'd like if you would maybe think about liking me back and maybe we could like each other in the same place sometime?" I ask, rushing it out. That sounded _nothing_ like what I'd planned to say, and I blush heavily and stare down into my coffee. R's completely silent, and I can't bring myself to look up at him. I don't want to see a look of horror on his face. I've totally fucked this up. Courfeyrac is going to kill me.

I'm thinking about all the ways Courfeyrac could murder me and get away with it when I feel Grantaire's hand softly under my chin, lifting my head up to meet him. He looks soft and happy and open, and I feel hopeful.  
"Enjolras, are you asking me on a date?" He says, smiling tentatively. I smile back sheepishly and say  
"Yeah, yes I am. Would you like to go on a da-" I manage, until R's pulling my face to his and kissing me on the lips, quick and light and perfect. He pulls away after a few seconds, and I can still feel his warmth on my lips. Without thinking, I brush my finger to my lips and laugh. R laughs too and pulls me in again.  
This kiss is more insistent, more certain. He presses my lips more firmly with his, his hand stroking my jaw as I move my lips against his, fighting a smile.  
We break apart and I get up, move round to R's side of the table, and sit down with him.  
"Is that a yes?"  
"That's a fuck yes" R grins, and I wind my hands into the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him close again. I hover for a moment, unsure, and R smiles as he closes the gap.

Kissing R is perfect. Because R is so imperfect. I can feel the tiny cracks in his lips as he moves his against mine, feel the paint flecks and calluses on his fingers as he smooths them across my cheeks, taste the peppermint on his breath as my lips open on a gasp, and he takes advantage of the opportunity, deepening the kiss.  
I weave my hands further into his hair and tug, just slightly, gently, and he gasps into my mouth and kisses me another few seconds before pulling back, face flushed and breathing heavy. He grins at me and says  
"I think we should probably not continue this here, I can't keep this PG-13 for much longer."  
"Is that a promise?"  
R grins wider and kisses me again, quickly, but with strength and surety, a taste of what's to come.  
He grabs my hand and we leave the cafe, smiling and bumping each other, stealing tiny kisses and breathless laughs. He squeezes my hand and says  
"Your place or mine?"  
"Anywhere" I breathe against his lips, and he begins tugging me in the direction of his flat.

It doesn't turn out to be a bad day, in the end.

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be like a 1000-word tiny wee piece.  
> What happened.


End file.
